


The Promised Prince(Jon Snow SI)

by Dragonspectre



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, House Stark, House Targaryen, Magic, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonspectre/pseuds/Dragonspectre
Summary: Jon Snow died in Castle Black betrayed by his own sworn brothers. When Melisandre resurrected Jon she brought someone else for the ride and he was not going to fuck up. Let the Games begin! This is my attempt to bring some modicum of sanity into the disaster that was S7 & S8 through the aid of a Self Insert. Also, Jon is not Aegon but rather Daeron Targaryen.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 109





	1. CH1: Awakening

Davos had to admit that he was really living in a fucked up world. He was not a stranger to this truth nor was he new in getting this enlightenment. He knew this from the moment he lived his life in the Flea Bottom. From a young age, he lived in a street full of shit of the high lords occupying the Red Keep. From a young age, he decided that he would make his own way in the world on his own terms. For a time that belief made him strong and made him one of the best smugglers. He made his living by avoiding the law set by the high lords. He thought it fair seeing as most high lords avoided his kind like the plague and treated them as some filth that was beneath their boots. For a time his life was adventurous and he lived by his creed happily enough. Then he met his wife to be and started a family. He had children and every time he would go out into the sea to feed his family he had to watch their fearful eyes stained with worry. Every time he saw that look he felt a heaviness in his heart but he knew no other craft other than being a smuggler. Smuggling things had become his way of life and he couldn’t find a way out of his line of work. When Westeros plunged into a war that raged over a year he made a fortune of smuggling things. After all, every highborn, as well as every able-bodied smallfolk, was off fighting someone's war. It was at this point that he saw an opportunity and that’s how he sailed into Storm's End with his boat full of salted beef and some onions. He had to evade being detected by the Redwyne fleet but after a lifetime of evading the Royal Fleet, this new self adopted mission was too easy. It was there that he met Stannis Baratheon and all that he desired and more was given by Stannis. He may have lost his fingers but Stannis gave his son a better life. Davos was awarded a lordship and a keep of his own. The man even went as far as to declare him as the hand of the king to Stannis Baratheon was just and honourable. But Davos had the misfortune of watching that great man become twisted by his desire for the Iron Throne. The once just man became a twisted fanatic by a group of fanatics that surrounded the rightful king of Westeros.

After the defeat King Stannis suffered in Blackwater Bay it was Davos that suggested Stannis lead the remainder of his army to the Wall. It was a sound plan and they even managed to defeat the Wildlings thereby saving the Night's Watch as well as the other Northern Houses. It was at the Wall that he met Jon Snow and even King Stannis was very taken with the boy. That was why despite knowing the conflicting oath the boy took King Stannis offered to legitimize the boy as Jon Stark. When the boy refused that offer for staying true to his vows he knew Kings Stannis was disappointed but he knew the man was very impressed. When the time came for the King to march his armies and retake the North from the Boltons, Davos was ordered to return to the Wall halfway through the march. No matter how much Davos begged the King he still took Shireen and his queen with his army and he had the distinct impression it was because of the red woman. While Stannis marched his army through the North, Jon Snow who was elected as the new Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch managed to save some Wildlings from Hardhome. The majority of the wildlings were children and women. The brothers of Night's Watch were not happy with Jon Snow's decision and tensions were running high. This was over the fact that those who went with Jon Snow saw the army of the Dead and White Walkers. While an uneasy peace prevailed as the Night's Watch opened the tunnels to let the wildlings settle in the Gift the Red Priestess returned all alone. Davos repeatedly questioned her about Shireen but the red woman would not speak of the girl or the battle. All she said was that the battle was lost and everyone died including Stannis, Queen Selyse and little Shireen.

Davos was wroth with rage at the red woman and he would have truly killed that woman if it wasn’t for what happened to Jon Snow. The young lad was betrayed by his own brothers of the Night's Watch and stabbed to death under the cover of darkness. Right now that same lad was sitting not three feet from him glaring into the flames with a cup of ale in his hands. Davos hated to admit it but resurrecting Jon Snow was the one good deed done by the red woman since she came to Westeros.

“Are you alright lad?” Davos asked gently knowing full well just how fucked up everything was.

“I shouldn’t be here. This is wrong! I died and yet I am alive. I should be with God and be at peace.” said Jon and Davos let out a silent sigh of relief as that was the first words Jon Snow uttered after he was resurrected a few moments ago.

“Nothing makes sense anymore. We were told magic doesn’t exist but we know that to be true. We were told the White Walkers didn’t exist but we know them to be real. You were dead a few moments ago but now you are alive. It shouldn’t be possible but it is what it is.” said Davos but he could see that Jon was still brooding with a strange look on his face

“Look, I somewhat understand what you are going through. You tried your best to do your duty as Lord Commander and you had to make a decision that was not seen favourably by the rest of your sworn brothers. You died because of their treachery and yet here you are, a second chance at life. Do you know how many would yearn for a second chance? Yet here you are, the luckiest of them all and you can do a lot of good with this chance. You already did a lot of good when you saved thousands of people and brought them safely beyond the Wall. Our world is a shit world but it is the few people like you that give our world a small ray of hope for the future. Now, it is you who has to decide whether you continue to do good or wallow in self-pity.” After that little pep talk, Davos noted that Jon was staring at him with an unreadable look.

“You are a good man Ser Davos and you are right. I shouldn’t be wallowing in self-pity when a lot of people are at risk.” Jon said as he nodded to himself as if coming to some decision

“What happened after I was -- you know…?” Jon asked awkwardly

“Ser Allister and his cohorts took over the Night's Watch. Your friend Edd and some like-minded sworn brothers kept your body from being burnt. The Red Woman resurrected you and while that happened Edd managed to enlist the help of the Free Folk. They were understandably not happy to learn that the person that saved them was stabbed to death. Ser Allister and his co-conspirators have been caught and await your judgement.” Davos explained and for a moment he watched on as Jon once again descended into deep thought.

“I don’t know if I can do it or even I should. What right do I have to take their lives? They were doing what they thought was right. The Night's Watch has fought Wildlings ever since it was first established and that age-old rivalry and hate was not going to vanish just because I force the issue. Then again I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Time was not on my side.” Jon let out a disappointed sigh as he started to brood once again.

“As you said time was not on your side at the moment and you did what you thought best. Not everyone will understand or even agree with your actions but you did what had to be done and there are thousands of people who owe you for that decision. I'd say that makes you the greatest Lord Commander the Night's Watch has ever seen. If you ask why then I would say it is because you saved more lives than you ever took.” said Davos and he watched on as Jon nodded to himself and stood up from his seat.

“I should have listened more closely to Maester Aemon's advice. Kill the boy and let the man be born, he said. I took action and saved the Free Folk but I didn’t take any action even when I knew that the Watch was divided. I should have acted first and stamped out any rebellious thoughts. I made that mistake and I won’t repeat that again.” said Jon and Davos watched as the young lad secured Longclaw on his waist. With quick measured steps, he watched Jon step out of the room into the cold frigid frigid air of the North. Not wanting to be left out Davos also stepped out right beside Jon and he followed the lad down the steps. The silence in Castle Black was palpable and Davos noticed their footsteps echoed within the walls. The Free Folk and the brothers of Night's Watch were staring at Jon as if he was the Stranger given life or the Old Gods. He was not sure of the gods they believed in but from their looks, he could see awe and fear, a healthy combination that is reserved for a God in his opinion.

Davos watched on as Jon exchanged words with Tormund who had led the wildlings into Castle Black and Edd who is a trusted friend of Jon. When Jon climbed up the steps to where all the traitors were set up to be hanged he moved closer as did others to hear what Jon had to say. Instead of hearing out the last wishes of the traitors like he thought Jon instead addressed the Free Folk and the Night's Watch.

“When I decided to let the Free Folk settle south of the Wall I did it with the intention of saving them and us. We all know that the White Walkers and an army of dead people march on the Wall. Everything living north of the Wall will be made to fight for the Night King and I had the choice of letting the Free Folk die at his hand or save them. I chose to save them because they are living breathing beings just like us. I can’t say the same for the White Walkers and their army of dead men. When they come and they will come—I had hoped that all the living must be gathered here to fight the darkness together. We may have our differences but the Night's Watch is an order that is sworn to protect what's south of the Wall. We can’t protect the realms of men if we are going to fight a hundred thousand or double that number of dead people with fifty men. But some of you refuse to even understand what is at stake and still hold on to your hate for the Free Folk even when we face annihilation.” Jon threw a dirty look at Allister Thorne and continued...

“These fine men behind me had similar beliefs and their blind hatred made them stab me under the cover of the night. They didn’t have the decency to even fight me face to face as real men should have. They are cowards and when they took the sword against me they took the sword against all of mankind. For that action, there can be only one punishment—death!” Jon shouted as he swung his sword and cut the rope to the trap door.

All the traitors hung on the rope and Davos saw that Jon was breathing quite haggardly by now. Jon walked down the podium and turned to Edd who was standing next to him.

“Make sure they are dead and then tie them to a rope and throw them over the Wall. If they are raised from the dead cut off their legs and arms and secure them in a box with chains. If we are to make the lords of Westeros take us seriously we need to show them proof.” said Jon and he was about to move forward but paused halfway and unfastened his cloak.

“My watch has ended.” said Jon and handed over his black cloak to Edd and walked out of the courtyard. The brothers of the Night's Watch, as well as the Free Folk, never spoke a word, all too stricken by what happened in a few spans of moments. Later when Davos was growing concerned with the continued absence of Jon in Castle Black he found out from one of the guards at the tunnel that Jon had gone north of the Wall and was praying before a Heart Tree. While Davos had some real concerns about the north of the Wall he decided not to disturb the young lad. Already he could see too many changes in Jon Snow. While the usual brooding was still there the lad walked differently than before. When Davos had seen him first the lad walked as if there was a great weight on his shoulders and now he walked straight head held high. While there was nothing wrong with that there was also the way Jon Snow was speaking. The Jon he knew was a man of few words and the speech that he delivered before the Night's Watch really troubled Davos. Still, it was understandable as the lad was dead a few minutes before so there ought to be some changes. He just prayed that there were not too many changes. He could already see the red woman watching the tunnel like a hawk and he swore to himself that he won’t allow her claws to dig into Jon Snow. Not while he was still drawing breathe!

*********

Jon Snow was very confused and afraid when he breathed again like the rest of the living. It was not just because he was dead a few minutes ago but rather he was not exactly himself and at the same time he was. When he returned from wherever it was that his soul went after death he returned with another soul. He was Jon Snow but at the same time, he was Christopher Pole. He felt like he had lived another entire life in a world that frankly looked magical compared to the one that he was currently occupying. Christopher was someone that worked as a freelance mercenary. Most of the time he dealt with acquiring sensitive information for business tycoons and even occasionally for the government. Christopher died when one such mission turned out to be a trap and the next thing he knows he was bombarded by Jon Snow's memories, feelings and instincts. The shock from his death as well as waking up in another body with a whole set of new memories really did a number on his mental facilities. It took him almost an hour to accept that he was in the body of Jon Snow the bastard of Winterfell and Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. While an internal battle was raging inside his mind between the personalities of Jon Snow and Christopher Pole the outside world was going nuts. There was the Red Priestess who was obsessed with her god and then there was Ser Davos who was intent on keeping said priestess at bay. In that situation, the only thing he could do was shut up and block out all their whining. It should have taken almost an hour to get some grip on his waning sanity and he followed through with his actions as best as he could. While his head was pounding with a megaton headache he managed to greet Davos, Tormund and Edd. He did all he could to sound sane enough and hanged the traitors. Immediately after that, he went straight for a Weirwood tree because that was the only place where Jon could find some semblance of peace and quiet.

That was how he found himself staring at the white Weirwood tree. This was the same tree that witnessed Jon ‘s vow to the Night's Watch. For quite a long time he sat before the tree and stared unblinkingly at the face that was carved on it. After some time he felt himself move almost as if in a trance. He felt a weight in his hand and he realized that it was Longclaw. Without a shred of doubt, he began hacking at the carved face of the tree. After three blows Longclaw had a green stain on its edge and Jon stopped hacking. Stabbing his sword to the ground he removed the gloves from his hand. He pressed his palm tightly on his blade and the sharp edge of the Valyrian Steel blade easily bit into his palm drawing blood. At this point, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what he was doing and he was working on pure instinct. He smeared his blood on the tree and with his bleeding palm, he gathered the green paste as much as his hand could collect. Not wasting a moment he began to lap it up and strangely it tasted like amla juice. It had a bitter taste but at this point, Jon was beyond caring. As the last bit of the green paste trickled through his throat he felt a blackness consuming him and he knew no more.

_"So strange. You have broken out of the chains of fate. I wonder what you will do Jon Snow. I should not be this much surprised as you carry the unpredictability of the Wolfsblood and the sheer power of dragon blood. I wish you good fortunes in the wars to come.” Jon heard a voice whispering from the darkness that was around him and then there was a flash of light that lit up his eyes in white. One by one every shred of memory since the moment he was born in the Tower of Joy to the moment he died was getting hammered into his head one after the other. Unlike the last time, he was not getting a splitting headache but rather he was feeling as if he was reliving the last seventeen years in one go. He felt the disappointment when he learned that he was a bastard and what it meant. He felt like an outsider in Winterfell and the desire to get the Stark name took root in his mind. He felt shame he felt for being the stain of honour of Lord Eddard Stark, his father who turned out to be his uncle. He felt the cold looks that he received from Lady Catelyn and the pain he felt when he realized that he would never be accepted in Winterfell. He felt the moment that he realized that he must take the Black rather than suffer being an outsider in Winterfell. He felt the disappointment when he realized that his father(uncle) never even warned him about the sorry state of the Night's Watch after seeing the truth by his own eyes. He felt the ocean of rage and anguish as one by one his family was slaughtered in the South. He felt the heartache that almost swallowed him whole when he watched helplessly as Ygritte died right before his eyes. He felt the profound sense of loss when he burned her body in the woods. Then finally he felt the shock and pain as he was betrayed by his own sworn brothers._

With a chocked gasp his awareness returned to his body and he felt as if he was sane for the first time since he woke up in this world. There was no more voices or flashes of memories that were distracting him from the reality around him. He now realised just who he was. He is Jon Snow but his given name was Daeron Targaryen the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, rightful heir to the Iron Throne of Westeros. By that point, he was on his knees before the Weirwood tree. He picked himself up from the snow and accidentally placed his hand on the Weirwood tree. A warmth passed through his body and felt his consciousness partially separate from his body. The next thing he knew he was seeing the inside of Castle Balck's kennel. Jon realized he had warged into Ghost and he was seeing through the eyes of his loyal companion. The wolf promptly howled and Jon didn’t know whether it was in joy or pain. He would like to think that it was in joy as their minds synced far better than ever before. He was starting to feel even a trickle of emotion from Ghost and he was relieved to note that it was content mixed with some happiness. For a brief moment, he found himself in his own body but quickly once again he warged on instinct. This time he was in a dark room but as time passed his vision began to get cleared up slowly. While visibility was low he could make out a serpentine figure right beside him. Just as the question of what it was he was seeing crossed in his mind the answer was delivered in a screech.

_**“Viserion…brother.”**_

It was then that Jon realized that he had warged into Rhaegal the green dragon that Daenerys had named after her elder brother Rhaegar. Jon was stunned for a moment that he could warg into a dragon and that too even when they are miles apart. His mind flashed through plans in a second and a distant memory of his studies with Maester Luwin came to his mind.

“Sōvegon(fly)” Jon commanded in High Valyrian through the mental link.

Jon was taking a shot in the dark but luckily it struck true. Rhaegal began to breathe flames into the walls beneath the pyramid and the intense heat was melting down the stones in quick order. The green dragon swung its tail and smashed the rest of the stone wall away and quickly took to the skies. Jon could hear the screeches from Viserion via the mental link but Rhaegal continued to fly. The strange thing was he was getting the feeling that Rhaegal was searching through his memories in a pace that was frankly alarming. Even with his warging powers, he couldn’t exactly completely shield himself from Rhaegal accessing his memories. The only option was to cut off the connection and that was exactly what he did.

Jon took several haggard breaths and he felt like he had run across the entire countryside. His throat was dry and he had the urge to drink something to alleviate that itch. He pushed himself up using Longclaw as a crutch but he felt his body go rigid all of a sudden and once again his consciousness split off from his body. The veil of darkness was blotted out and instead, he found himself standing on top of a building with the morning sun glaring down at him. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of a wide sprawled out city with a gigantic pyramid almost touching the clouds. He saw Rhaegal flying right over his head and was heading westwards.

Jon felt someone move behind his back and he quickly turned to face an old man in black robes.

“I guess congratulations are in order. You are the first person in history to successfully warg into a dragon. Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Brynden Rivers and I also go by the name of three-eyed-raven.” said Brynden as he walked closer to the edge of the building and observed Rhaegal flying away despite the screeches from Viserion.

“How did you…?”

“I am a greenseer and I do have the power to tap into your mind as well as all minds of all living creatures in the world. You are also a greenseer, a recently awakened gift I am afraid but you are handling it better than your cousin.” said Brandon as he faced Jon and sat down slowly at the edge of the building.

“Bran is with you?” Jon asked to confirm what he knew about the timeline because even with everything that was happening he can’t expect everything to go just as in the shows. Already, a huge divergence was made by his actions and the ramifications of his actions are unknown at this point. Besides, he felt that the shows bungled up the entire timeline by making people appear through wormholes or something. The prevailing theory was Westeros and Essos was riddled with wormholes that somehow transported people hundreds of miles in a second.

“Fear not Daeron. Your cousin is safe with me and in time he will reach you unharmed.”

“Don’t call me by that name. Who are you? How do you know that name? Why am I here?” Jon asked warily not to let his true knowledge show to Brynden just in case the guy was hostile.

“If you prefer Jon Snow then that is what I shall call you. I once had a brother by the name of Daeron, Jon Snow. I am Brynden Rivers, bastard son of Aegon IV and brother to King Daeron the Second. I know your name because I watched you while you were born and I watched you as you grew up to where you stand. As for why I am here, it is to meet you in person and help you in any way I can. You and your cousin Brandon are the only two people who have awakened the gift of Greensight other than me in centuries. Your power will be sorely needed in the coming Long Night.” said Brynden with a sigh

“So you know about the Others. Where are you and where is Bran?” Jon asked

“I know about the Others and I am training young Bran to fully control his gifts. I am sorry to say that I won’t be able to help you as much as I wish. Besides, you will have a role to play in uniting Westeros when the time comes. But I came here to offer my limited time to train you as well as to hand over something to you. In your hands, it will find a better use.” with that said Brynden began to show him a memory…

When Jon came out of the memory he was kneeling before the Weirwood tree. He rubbed his forehead as a small headache was taking root. Before it got worse he decided to do what he had to do and find the little gift Brynden had left not far from the Weirwood tree. He was going to find Dark Sister and that would make his claim more strong. Then again he was still queasy about declaring his legitimacy because that was going to be an uphill battle with a lot of downsides as well. Whatever the case maybe he was not going to say no to an extra Valyrian Steel blade.

*********

Petyr Baelish watched on sardonically as Robin Arryn's shoddy attempts at archery. He glanced sideways at Lord Royce and he was amused to note that the lord of Runestone was trying in vain to conceal the disappointment at the martial powers of the future lord of the Vale. Personally, he considered it something to celebrate seeing as his ward has managed to at least move his arrow from one point to another. He was very fortunate that Robin Arryn inherited more from his air-headed mother than his father. It just made his plans much simpler and consequently, it also kept the boy alive. So long as the boy was easy to manipulate he was quite happy to leave 'sweet Robin' to his distorted and sickly existence.

Peter was interrupted in his musings as one of his men came to him and handed over a roll of parchment. As he read the contents of the parchment his eyes twinkled in excitement as yet again one of his plans came to fruition. His gamble had paid off and Sansa has successfully escaped Winterfell as Stannis Baratheon attacked Winterfell. The good news was that Stannis is dead, removing another one of his potential enemies from the board leaving the Boltons an easy pick. There is dissent among the Northern Houses and it was time to make his move and take the North along with his lovely Sansa. True she might have suffered but it was from suffering people find strength. Petyr himself was born out of the suffering of a lovesick boy that was spurned in favour of a political match with a Great House by his true love. Decades after that incident Petyr stood at the top while House Tully and House Stark were wiped away. Now it was his time and he was going to celebrate his total hold over Vale, North and Riverlands soon enough with Catelyn's daughter. While Sansa was not pure in the body he wouldn't mind it that much. After all, he had ensured her mind would always be his as he had trained her to think in a certain way. For him, that was the ultimate ownership and he was eager to meet his investment.

It was time for the knights of the Vale to take the North for him and his new bride. He was really looking forward to seeing Sansa once again. With that happy thought, he addressed Robin Arryn and subtly led the boy and those around him to what Petyr wanted.


	2. Ch2: The first move.

Jon weaved his swords around him in quick strokes and swipes using his wrist to twist and turn the two Valyrian Steel swords. He had found that he was not very good with using dual swords for his previous aggressive style. But when he delegated one sword for defence while the other for attack his moves flowed smoothly like water. Even with that small breakthrough in the new style, he was developing he knew the best way to wielding dual swords was by switching the roles of his sword hands alternatively in a fight. It was the best way to keep the opponent guessing and unlike the usual styles the Westerosi knights use, speed and precision was the key for dual-wielding. He was barely scratching the surface at this point but taking up a new hobby somewhat helped to keep his mind engaged not to mention he was preparing for the wars to come. While he did have the same instincts and muscle memory before his death he felt that a change in style was more than welcome especially considering the wars that are yet to come.

Speaking of wars he has been communicating with Rhaegal now and then. Now that he knew what the dragon was capable of he could shield his mind properly from Rhaegal's influence by controlling his own memories. He had found that pushing music into their psychic bond was the best way to distract the dragon. Rhaegal was very fond of songs and that kept the green dragon happy enough to follow the chart he was setting up for the dragon. Right now Rhaegal was out of Slaver's Bay and taking rest at the edge of the Painted Mountains. The plan was for Rhaegal to fly through the Dothraki Sea straight for Andalos. From there the dragon could reach the Braavosi coastlands and then Rhaegal will have to cross the Narrow sea to the mountain of Vale. Then Rhaegal will have to fly over to the Fingers and finally, he will arrive at Ramsgate. This was the rough travel plan Jon had come up with and he knew that speaking of it was simple but accomplishing what amounted to an intercontinental flight was going to be really tough and slow. Using Rhaegal against the Boltons was his plan B and plan A relied on something much more complicated. He was training himself for that plan as he was not going to let Ramsay Snow kill Rickon. The North truly needs a Stark to really around and Jon had ambitions in the South rather than be pinned down in Winterfell.

Jon continued to train for a few more minutes before he decided to call it a day. He then decided to train with his warging powers a bit. While he was doing very much a good job in taking partial control of Rhaegal by Brynden's admission the possibilities of his warging powers were endless. According to Brynden the fact that Jon could warg partially with Rhaegal even with the aid of Weirwood trees was a sign of his warging powers. Brynden attributed the increase in power to the way that Jon was resurrected from death and the exposure his blood had with such a phenomenon. Whatever the cause maybe he was not going to complain about the power boost he received. Jon sat down on the ground and took a deep breath and pushed out his consciousness from his body. Without the Weirwood trees to amplify and focus his power he felt like he was floating in a strong wind but thankfully he managed to latch on to a raven not far from his position. His vision slowly cleared and now he could see through the raven's eyes.

 _Fly_ , Jon commanded and the raven flew from the branch of a tree. He directed the raven further south and it was then that he encountered another raven. Just as Brynden instructed he tried to split his consciousness that was already embedded in the first raven and latched into the second raven. The raven wobbled for a time and almost crashed into a tree but before that happened Jon managed to gain full control and the raven joined the other one in the air. Similarly, he tried this with more birds until his concentration broke at five.

“Five is not a bad number but I can do better.” Jon said to himself before he once again warged.

After some time he grew tired of warging and stopped it altogether. Brynden had warned him that repeatedly warging may cause serious harm to one's mental fortitude. That was the last thing Jon needed so he took some much-needed break. That doesn’t mean that he was going to stay idle. Rather than waste his time he went straight to find Ser Davos. He found the man watching the brothers of the Night's Watch train in the courtyard of Castle Black.

As Jon approached the former Hand of King Stannis he noted that Melisandre was observing them both from the opposite end of the courtyard.

“I thought you would be travelling South, Jon?” Ser Davos asked as he leaned on the railing

“Aye, but only with an army which is why I have come to you.” said Jon as he joined Davos to observe his former brothers train

“Well, you have come to the wrong person lad. As you can see I have no army and the only one that I marched with was broken by the Boltons.” Davos shrugged but looked at Jon questioningly

“You may not have an army Ser Davos but you do have ships docked on Eastwatch. They are still docked on the bay and if they follow you I would like to use them.” said Jon and waited for Davis to answer

“I thought with Stannis dead the fleet would have sailed back to Dragonstone?” Davis asked in surprise

“But how will they know about King Stannis when they are isolated in Eastwatch? So far, no ravens have flown from Castle Black since Maester Aemon has passed. In the absence of King Stannis will they follow your command?” Jon asked and Davos was silent for some time as the smuggler turned Knight contemplated.

“I might be able to convince some of them but I am telling ya it won’t be much. I really hate to say this but most of those men in the fleet are fanatics and they would listen more to the red woman than me.” said Davos as he glared at Melisandre who was slowly making her way over to them by climbing the steps.

“My lady.” Jon nodded in her direction seeing as he knew that she will be very useful in the coming campaign as well as what was about to follow.

“You have changed Jon Snow. Before I could barely feel your presence but now it is almost as if looking at a bright lone star in the night sky. The Lord has given his blessings to you once you returned from the other side.” said Melisandre as she walked around Jon in a circle observing him to the ire of Davos who was grinding his teeth quite hardly. Jon had the distinct impression that Ser Davos picked that habit from Stannis.

“I do not know about any gods my lady. There was nothing at the other end when I died. There were no Old Gods, the Drowned God, the Seven Gods or even the Red God. I do not claim to be well versed in divine matters but I think the gods would not care what we mortals do in the world. If we have to do something then it has to be done with our own two hands rather than depend on any gods.” said Jon who remained a sceptic even after what happened. As far as he was concerned he would believe in any god when said God was standing right in front of him. Till that day he would not believe in them. Even when he was before the Weirwood trees he knew there were no gods watching over but the trees do give off some level of comfort and they enhanced his power which was a win-win.

“Even when you do not believe the Lord watches over us, Jon Snow. Why do you think the Lord brought you back? You have a part to play in the Great War that is coming, Jon Snow. You are the Prince that was Promised.” Said Melisandre and Jon could see that Davos was about to come up with a clever retort.

Before that happened Jon talked over Davos. “Aye, we all need to work together if we are to fight the Walkers. I do not know about the gods but I know we need more men than the Night's Watch or the Free Folk can field. We need more than the North to even have a chance against the Night King. He has a hundred thousand dead men marching in his army. Probably more if we consider all the dead beasts North of the Wall. We need the armies of the Seven Kingdoms to stand a chance but first, we need the North. So long as the Boltons rule from Winterfell the Northern Lords will never unite under their banners. I am sure they are already planning to wipe out the Free Folk settled in the Gift. Before the Boltons can muster their strength I want to attack them and take Winterfell. The only way I can do that is with the Wildlings as well as the support from other Northern Houses. Marching through winter from the Wall is suicide but with the fleet in Eastwatch that won’t be necessary. I was hoping you and Ser Davos might be able to convince the captains of the ship to transport the army to White Harbour when the time comes.”

Melisandre exchanged a hesitant look with Davos but in the end, she nodded which made Jon let out a silent sigh of relief.

“If we are going to do this we need to ride today itself.” said Davos starting at Melisandre meaningfully

“I will be ready Ser Davos.” Melisandre nodded carefully

“I know you don’t have to do this but thank you Ser Davos.” Jon quickly added before Davos walked away

“It is as you said. No one can hide out from this war and if I can play my part in some small way then I will.” said Davos and with a nod, he was on his way to prepare for the journey.

“I suspect you have something to ask of me, Jon Snow. Do ask what you desire and if it is within my power then I shall help in any way I can.” said Melisandre who was now facing Jon completely and he was giving her undivided attention.

“I have a plan to deal with one of the most dangerous enemies that I have and I need your help to strike the killing blow so to speak. I shall explain my plan and you only need to agree if you are comfortable with my plan. What do you say?” Jon asked and he was not surprised by Melisandre's enthusiastic nod. So Jon began to explain his plan in detail.

It only took less than one hour for Ser Davos to arrange the horses and the necessary provisions. It was going to take at least two days for them to ride to Eastwatch and that was all the time he needed to convince the Free Folk. Jon had to make sure that he had the support of the Free Folk before Sansa arrives which was going to be sooner rather than later as he had observed Sansa and her two companions via the Weirwood trees. They were closing in on Castle Black and that made Jon accelerate his plans. Jon took a horse and rode out of Castle Black for the Gift to speak with the leaders of the Free Folk.

As he rode into the camp the Free Folk had managed to raise together he was greeted with some respectful nods and in the extreme case with a disinterested frown. As far as first impressions go Jon thought he was doing fine. When he saw Tormund he stopped his horse and dismounted quickly.

“I was about to visit ya myself.” said Tormund as a way of greeting

“For what?” Jon asked curiously.

“Some of the men saw the Southerners scouting out our camp at nights. Know anything about that?” Tormund asked and that news made Jon perk up. He had not known there were scouts this far north but he should have guessed.

“Most probably from House Umber and that’s the reason I am here as well. But if we are gonna do this I need to speak with all your leaders.” said Jon to a surprised Tormund but the giant of a man agreed without any protest.

A few minutes later Jon was standing with a group of Free Folk around a vastly lit fire even as the snow fell around them.

“The scouts that your people encountered were from House Umber. They have a lot of grievances against the Free Folk and that makes them a dangerous enemy. Already, they have joined forces with Boltons and Karstarks and they are planning to march here to slaughter every last one of us.” said Jon and the various leaders of the clans let out a strung of curses. Jon decided to plough on ahead before the situation gets out of hand.

“I had hoped that Stannis would be able to defeat the Boltons and unite the Northern Lords. If that had happened then Stannis would have ensured that we would be safe here as he believed that the threat to the North is real. With the Boltons in power that is not the case. They will attack and slaughter all of us unless...” Jon trailed off as he exchanged a worried glance with Tormund.

“Unless we destroy the Boltons first. He wants us to fight the Boltons in the south.” said Tormund with a hard stare and Jon was for a moment filled with doubt but he speared on regardless of the consequences.

“I know this is not the deal that we made. I shouldn’t be asking you to fight but if we don’t strike now we will never again have the chance. Other Northern houses will not declare for the Boltons for now but if we wait too long they will force other reluctant houses to march on the Wall. If that happens we will be dead or worse, well before the Others get past the Wall.” said Jon and the Free Folk leaders murmured amongst themselves.

“There were more than a hundred thousand Free Folk when we followed Mance and look at us now. If we fight this battle what will become to the rest of us?” Dalba sceptically asked and Jon really did understand their concerns. His eyes found Wun-Wun, the only surviving giant among the Free Folk. It was a pity that the giants will die out with Wun-Wun unless nature stepped in and restored the balance. The same was true for the Free Folk who would be risking everything to fight for him in Winterfell. At least that was their thought and he was not going to divulge his plans despite such a morbid thought before them because he knew at the end of the day fortune will favour him and it did in the form of Tormund.

The giant of a man pointed straight ant a Jon and said, “He spoke for us when nobody else would in Castle Black. He died for us and if we are not ready to do the same for him then we are cowards. If this battle is our last one then so be it. Better to die than be a coward.” Tormund growled fiercely and that left the Free Folk in awkward silence. But that was broken when Wun-Wun stood up.

“Snow.” Wun-Wun nodded and that was the final nail so to speak. Jon now possessed the army that he needed but he had one more thing to do.

“I need some thirty good men to be ready by tomorrow evening.” Jon requested

“What do you need them for?” Ground asked curiously

“I am going to take a castle.” Jon responded briefly but refused to explain further and at that exact moment Sansa, Brianne of Tarth and Podrick Payne slowly trotted into the camp upon their horses.

Upon seeing Jon, Sansa jumped down from her horse and ran into his arms hiding her fiery head in his wide chest. Jon could feel the relieved sobs let out by his cousin and he vowed that Ramsey would suffer and all the Northern lords that stood back and watched from the side-lines will be put in their place for good. If there was one thing he hated more in this world and the previous world then that was a rapist and all those silent accomplices.

* * *

Sansa Stark stared into the crackling fire reminiscing about her life in Winterfell before she stupidly went south. She was really a stupid little girl back then and she was cruel as well to her siblings especially Arya and Jon. Looking back at her life all she had was regret. She had a beautiful and loving family but her selfishness and stupidity destroyed her entire family. If only she had not tattled off to the Queen about her father's plan then she would still have had her family. A shiver came to her right hand at the thought that she was responsible for her father's death. It was as if she had swung the sword instead of Ilyn Payne outside the Sept of Baelor. From there on out she was beaten, humiliated, sold off like a broodmare, abused, tormented and raped. It was then that she truly understood her father's lessons. When winter comes the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. The true meaning has always been to depend and trust only her own family but she never held her family in high regard and that was why she felt nothing when she sold out her father to Cersei Lannister. When she betrayed her father she betrayed the entire pack and now look at the state of House Stark. Robb and her mother murdered by sworn bannermen of House Stark, Bran and Rickon are nowhere to be found but she hoped they are here at the Wall. But seeing as she had neither seen nor heard about them from Jon so far reignited her fears once more. Arya was nowhere to be found but according to Lady Brianne, her little sister was travelling with the Hound. The only sibling that she could turn to for protection was sitting right beside her rubbing soothing circles on her back like her father used to do when she was upset or angry. She leaned into Jon and almost felt like a little girl all over again feeling home. She couldn’t control the tears that slipped past her eyes at the thought of home. She didn’t deserve a home, she didn’t deserve Jon, a brother that she hardly knew because of her own stupid prejudices. Sansa had grown up learning about how bastards were sinful creatures but Septa Mordane was wrong. Her mother was wrong, the seven gods were wrong. All of them were wrong because when she looked at Jon all she could see was someone who would do anything to protect her. He was her brother and she was his sister. Now she knew the value of family and that bonds that would last through the ages relied on family. No one else could be trusted and she could have avoided all that happened if only she was like Arya. She hiccupped lightly at the thought of wanting to be more like her younger sister Arya.

“What’s the matter, Sansa?” Jon asked and his smooth voice pulled her out of the depressing hole that she was digging herself into.

“Nothing -- I was just thinking about how I would have preferred to be like Arya.” Sansa laughed awkwardly as she discretely rubbed her eyes so that Jon won’t see her tears.

“So what! You want to hound me to teach you how to fight with a sword, fire arrows and fight in epic battles?” Jon asked with a laugh and Sansa couldn’t help but join. There were few things she could laugh about in her life and all of that was about her family. It was a testament to how much she suffered when she lost her family.

“Well I wouldn’t know how to fight but I would settle for being a decent sister for one. I should have been like Arya and treated you better but I was horrible to you and to her.” Sansa pulled into herself once again as the memories of her childhood surfaced.

“You were a child Sansa. I have never felt that you treated me or Arya horribly.” Said Jon and Sansa threw him an incredulous look.

“Well maybe you could have been a little kinder to Arya but you never treated me horribly. The fondest memories I have are from Winterfell with you, Arya, Bran, Rickon and Robb. No matter what, I wouldn’t change anything from our childhood.” said Jon with a happy smile and Sansa really wondered how her brother could possibly be happy of their shared childhood. She could still remember the subtle ways she and her mother snubbed Jon. She could still hear the sharp insults Septa Mordane would unleash on Jon even when he was present.

“Don’t look so surprised sister. The last few years on the Wall has taught me to appreciate how blessed I was compared to other less fortunate people. At the very least I had full bellies even in the harshest of winters. Many of my sworn brothers never had seen a decent meal in their entire life. Compared to that my woes are minuscule and inane.” said Jon and Sansa marvelled at how changed her brother has become in the years after he left for the Wall.

“If I had the chance I would have changed so much. For one I would have been a better sister to you and don’t lie to make me comfortable Jon. I was horrible to you and Arya. I belittled everything about the North and never truly grasped father's lessons about the pack. I betrayed--” Sansa clamped her mouth shut instantly as she almost spilt her biggest secret. She bit the inside of her lips and she could feel the coppery taste of her own blood. She was broken out of her stupor when Jon wrapped his hands around her and hugged her closely.

“You don’t have to say anything Sansa. I know what you speak of and you shouldn’t blame yourself. Even if you hadn’t told Cersei Lannister about father's plans she would have known one way or another. He was already being watched by three sets of spies and at that time Cersei was not his biggest enemy.” said Jon and she stiffened in fright. ‘How?? How could Jon know about that? She had never told anyone about this ever!’ Sansa was now afraid and she felt as if a block of ice was forming in her stomach.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Sansa. You were a little girl taught only to sew, sing songs and dance. Courtly politics was way above your head at that age and time. Father should not have taken you to King's Landing or Arya for that matter. Besides, he wouldn’t have judged you for what you think you did, Sansa. He loved us all too much, more than even his honour. After all, he confessed to all those false crimes on the steps of Sept of Baelor for your sake. He hoped that you would be kept safe and he would lose his head over and over again if it means that you or anyone of us will remain safe. So forgive yourself Sansa and be the wolf the Starks is and always has been. Kill the girl that you were and be the woman that you were always meant to be. Be a Stark of Winterfell.” said Jon and she didn’t know why but her fears and worries fled in his warm embrace. After many long years, she felt like she was true Stark once more. She had so many questions swimming in her mind but it meant a lot to her to have Jon's forgiveness. For a long time, Sansa remained in her brother's embrace but after she regained a modicum of stability she slowly pulled back to stare into his grey eyes. She absently noted that his eyes have become darker.

“How do you know all of this?” Sansa asked curious to know how her brother who was at the Wall know so much about what happened in King's Landing.

“It's a long story and most of it is a sad tale.” Jon smiled forlornly and for a moment Sansa could see the pain in her brother's eyes. She wondered what could make her brother experience pain like that.

“I have all the time I need to hear that tale.” said Sansa placing her hands in her brother's hands.

Jon huffed out a laugh at the face she made and began to narrate the tale. Throughout the night Sansa stayed awake captured by the tale of her brother's exploits.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister paced back and forth in the council chambers of his new sworn queen Daenerys Targaryen. If someone had said that he would be serving a Targaryen Queen back when he was in King's Landing he would have scoffed and perhaps even graced them with a few choice words. But right now he was serving a Targaryen Queen in Mereen as her advisor. When Varys told him about a Queen in the east who was supposedly the last best chance for a stable ruler to sit the Iron Throne he was intrigued. That intrigue led him through a thrilling adventure through the ruins of Valyria all the way to Meereen. He had thoughts about writing a book describing his adventure but he rather doubted anyone would read it seeing as it will be written by a kinslayer dwarf.

His failings in being an accomplished writer aside he was having a bad day. The Queen has disappeared from the city in the wake of an attack from the Sons of the Harpy. That itself has put the city of Meereen under considerable stress then the absence was not ignored by the slavers. According to Varys the slavers of Volantis, Astapor, Yunkai and other slave cities have pooled in their resources to unleash revolts against the queen's rule. Matters were not helped when the former slaves were left with no other new prospects. It seems queen Daenerys had no solution to replace the institution of slavery with something else. While that was a serious lapse of judgement on the Dragon Queen's part Tyrion had managed to somewhat achieve some mixed success in that area. The red priests in the city have been of great help in providing the people with some much-needed direction to take in life. He had even managed to employ several former slaves in small construction projects within the pyramid. He was also slowly expanding the fleets of Mereen for eventually sailing the Queen's army to Westeros. His latest worries came not just from the Sons of the Harpy but from the dragon, Rhaegal. It has been two days since the green dragon escaped from the prison Queen Daenerys had chained it in. Tyrion, as well as all inhabitants of the great pyramid, had shaken awake that night when Rhaegal destroyed its prison and flew away. When the queen returns Tyrion had no idea how he is going to break that news and the fact that he was the one that unchained them from their captivity was a point against him. Thankfully the other dragon Viserion seems to be of a sensible sort and was staying in Meereen. The dragon did occasionally flew out of the pyramid but so far no incidents have been reported and that was the only relief Tyrion was enjoying so far.

He stopped his pacing as the council as Missandei and Grey Worm walked into the council chambers. He decided to not waste any time and get straight to the matter at hand.

“Have there been any word about Rhaegal?” Tyrion asked hoping against hope there was some sighting of that blasted dragon. He really did deserve a punch to the face for the stunt he pulled.

“A fisherman reported seeing the green dragon flying in the direction of the Painted Mountains. With the streets getting dangerous for the citizens the Unsullied have to regularly patrol the streets. I can’t spare men to track the dragon and even if we do what are we supposed to do?” said Grey Worm who glared at Tyrion who wisely didn’t antagonize the captain of the Unsullied.

“You shouldn’t have removed the chains from the dragons in the first place. Her grace put them in chains for a reason and now you have freed one of them to the open sky. Rhaegal could be anywhere and when the queen returns you will inform her yourself.” said Missandei and Tyrion were horrified to note that Grey Worm was also nodding along.

“Please don’t be like that. We are all on the same side here.” said Tyrion and he tried to give a welcoming smile but it sort of fell apart into a grimace.

“On this matter, you are on your own side lord Tyrion. Her Grace sees the dragons as her children and you are the one that is responsible for her missing child. We have no part in this debacle.” said Missandei and she walked out of the council chambers closely followed by Grey Worm.

“It seems you have bungled up my friend.” said Varys as he walked into the council chambers startling Tyrion who was in the process of pouring himself a glass of wine. He caught himself quickly and poured one more glass of wine and handed it over to Varys.

“Tell me about it. I seem to have suddenly struck a stroke of misfortune my friend.” said Tyrion as he plopped himself into a plush seat with a huff and began to drain his wineglass quickly despite the disapproving stare of Varys.

“My little birds will be listening to any whispers regarding dragons my friend. Although, I hope you have taken necessary steps to ensure the third dragon does not leave Meereen.” Varys warned even as he took small sips from the wineglass

“Even their mother can’t control them. How do you expect me to suddenly be an expert kennel master for dragons?” Tyrion moaned out as he hid his face behind his palms.

“I implore you to devise some way, my friend. I worry for your pea-sized head when the queen realises that you set one of her dragons loose upon the world. I will be keeping my attention on Volantis as there are some interesting whispers coming from the daughter of Valyria.” said Varys as he placed his half-finished glass of wine on the table and gave Tyrion an assessing stare before he took his leave.

Tyrion let out a disappointed huff and thought about how to force a dragon to stay. Physical force was out of the question and he was not drunk enough to attempt that folly. The only path he could see was to somehow make Viserion interested and entertained beneath the Pyramid. But the real dilemma was, what was it that dragons would find interesting enough to stay cooped up in a dark dungeon? He was sure there was some answer. Perhaps the dragon could get drunk on wine! It has worked out well for himself so he didn’t see why it would not work on dragons.

“I am going to need a lot more wine than this for sure.” Tyrion grumbled as he shook the small jar of wine and once again poured himself a cup.


	3. Winter is Coming

Jon along with Tormund and some of the Free Folk warriors were waiting patiently under the cover of darkness graciously provided by the thick trees a few miles out from the Gift. Jon once again took a peek from behind the tree he was hiding and saw a few guards standing vigil at the outer walls of Last Hearth. The only reason he could see them clearly was because of the burning torch the guard was staying close to. It was a foolish mistake but in this heavy snow, it was understandable to be as warm as possible. Unfortunately, this would be the guard's last mistake. Jon nodded to Tormund and the unofficial leader of the Free Folk took fifteen men with him and moved farther left from their current position. Jon concentrated and a few owls that he had warged into flew from the trees to settle inside the walls of Last Hearth. Unlike normal castles Last Hearth has weak walls especially considering half the wall is made of wood rather than stone. After making sure the castle was under guarded and most of the guards were asleep Jon decide to start.

“Aim above their neck.” Jon ordered two of his archers and they carefully took aim and let the arrows fly. The first arrow found its mark on one of the guard's throat. The other found another guard's eye and was killed instantly.

Tormund's men were not idle as two archers from their company stepped forward and fired their own arrows. Both found their mark on two men upon a watchtower. Jon signalled to pause and pull back as a group of five Umber men with two hounds came around the castle wall. If they find the dead men then a fight will break out which will take out Jon's advantage. Without wasting any time he warged into the hounds and led the two archers with him further right, close to the position of the patrolling guards. As the guards came into Jon's immediate line of sight he made the hounds turn on their masters. The brief moment of surprise was enough for two arrows to find their marks. While the hounds tore off the flesh from the hands of two guards. Just as they let out a scream two arrows silenced them. The last guard who tried to make a run for his life didn’t get far as Ghost's jaw clamped on the guard’s throat. In a shower of blood, the last guard fell and the night was silent once again. Jon once again observed the castle through the owls inside and noted that a few guards are stepping out of the castle probably because they heard some of the screams. It doesn’t matter because they won’t be able to do much in the next few minutes.

Jon nodded to the men and they carried over a long enough wooden pole that they managed to scourge off from the forest near Last Hearth. It was not much of a ladder but using a scythe they had managed to carve out some grooves. The makeshift ladder was carefully set on the ground and slowly the other end touched the top of the wall. One of the men tied a rope around his leg and started the climb using the rope to lock into the grooves. As the guy made to the top he waited for Jon's instruction.

Jon was observing the Umber guards who had returned to their posts probably thinking that they imagined the scream. Jon gave the signal and the man climbed over the wall and ran straight to the watchtower and tied the rope he was carrying. He threw the other end of the rope down and one by one the Free Folk climbed over the wall as did Jon. If Jon was being pragmatic he really had to thank the Red Wedding for cutting down the bulk of the Northern army as House Umber has also suffered some significant losses. That was the only reason why the men in the ancestral home of Umbers were this few in numbers. If the Red Wedding hadn’t happened then Jon wouldn’t be forced to do this as well which made his earlier point moot. One by one they silently climbed down the wall using ropes. Jon signalled them to pause and he sent the owls into the castle. The winged creatures glided through the open corridors without making much sound. Even still the flapping of the wings did wake some of the guards but they went back to sleep once they saw it was just some owl.

Jon gave the signal and once again their group split into two each following Jon and Tormund respectively. While Tormund took the Eastern corridor that led to the library and quarters for the Umber guards, Jon took one that led to the lord's quarters and the ravenry. Jon walked forward the men that followed him began to slice the throats of the guards one by one. Soon the castle was filled with screams as the Free Folk cut a bloody swathe through the ancestral home of Umbers. While this happened Jon walked through the corridor feeling not a shred of guilt at the amount of blood he was spilling. Most of the men dying around him probably had no part in what Smalljon Umber's treachery but dealing with these men was never about revenge or justice. It was a political statement and a warning to all those who stand against House Stark. But to truly make that statement strong a lot of death is needed, even if the majority of them were innocents. It was a necessary act because that was the only way that Jon could establish his power base and that’s why Jon had no qualms stabbing an unarmed man straight through his abdomen. He didn’t wait for the guy to properly gasp before he pushed him away from Longclaw and sliced the head clean off from a wounded soldier nearby.

“Spread out and kill anyone that remotely looks like a threat but don’t burn anything or rape any woman. If you do be prepared to be short of a head and that will be least of your worries.” Jon ordered and continued to fight his way into the lord's quarters. Already they had secured the ravenry from the maester and with the old man knocked out no ravens will be sent from the castle.

Jon continued to advance and more and more Umber men were cut down. Finally, they reached the lord's quarters but found them to be empty. Jon immediately warged into the owls and he knew where his target was.

“Two of you follow me.” Jon ordered and immediately rushed through a small pathway and jumped through a window closely followed by two of his men. They landed on the open courtyard on the west side of the castle and Jon could see a few guards trying to open the gates. But his eyes locked on to a Mall figure on a horse surrounded by two large bulky men. The two men that followed Jon into the courtyard were archers and they immediately dispatched the men trying to unlock the gate. The fully awakened castle was by now filled with screaming women and children as their men were being slaughtered without mercy.

“I suspect you are Mors Umber and Hother Umber along with Ned Umber. Surrender now or watch as your people suffer the consequences.” Jon demanded and by that time the Free Folk had dispatched the Umber guards for good and only two of them were left who were protecting Ned umber with Mors and Hother.

“You are Jon Snow aren’t ya? Consorting with Wildlings! Your ancestors will be rolling in their graves boy and we Umbers will never surrender to Wildlings.” Mors barked out in rage as he unsheathed his blade but Jon stayed the hand of his archers.

“Maybe but that’s my decision and if you had such strong problems with me you should have taken it out on me. Instead, you broke guest rights and handed over Rickon Stark to the Flayed Man. I believe your ancestors will be rolling on their graces too.” Jon fired back

“House Stark is dead. You, Starks, have destroyed the North with your foolishness.” Hother Umber screamed while glaring hatefully at the Free Folk warriors. Jon had heard rumours that a daughter of Hother Umber was taken in a Wildling raid and the hate that he could see in the castellan of Last Hearth proves this to be true. But Jon didn’t have the luxury to sympathise with his enemies so he decided to end the battle for Last Hearth for good.

“So long as I am breathing and my sisters are breathing House Stark is not dead. But House Umber, on the other hand, is going to die by my own hands.” Jon sneered and unsheathed Dark Sister from his back. Armed with two swords he moved forward while the Free Folk and much of the surviving inhabitants of Last Hearth watched on.

The two guards that were still standing beside the Umbers were the first to charge forward on their horses. Jon ducked from their swords while he stabbed Dark Sister through the back of one of the guards. The man screamed in pain and fell off his horse and after a century Dark Sister finally tasted blood once again. The other guard screamed in rage and he began to hack and swipe wildly atop the horse. Jon easily parried a wide blow with Longclaw and that left the guard exposed which Jon used by stabbing the guard straight through his stomach. The guard fell from his horse slowly bleeding to death on the ground. Jon kicked away the swords not get a surprise attack just in case the guards were bold enough to try for one. With the last two Umber guards dead Jon gave his undivided attention to the three Umbers.

“I would have thought both of you to join that traitor in Winterfell.” Jon commented as he spun Dark Sister in his left hand and held it in a backhanded grip while he positioned Longclaw in his right ready to spill the blood of Umbers.

More and Hother number down from their horses and charged at Jon with their swords. Jon parried a swipe from Mors while ducking another from Hother and positioned himself right at the middle of the two brothers. From there Jon weaved his sword expertly in fluid motions keeping the Umber brothers at bay with the speed of his attacks. The Valyrian Steel blades sang as it cut through the air expertly blocking and parrying the blows from the Umbers. Jon blocked a jab from Mors and he quickly knelt and spun on his knee. Longclaw flashed and in a shower of blood Hother was cut down at his knees as his right leg was clearly separated. More wailed as his brother fell and increased his power to his swings in his rage. Jon slowly moved back blocking each blow with Dark Sister and quickly he turned tables by stepping in closer and plunged Dark Sister straight through Mors's neck while he used Longclaw to block the strike from the elderly Umber. The switching of defence by Jon had taken Mors completely by surprise and the large burly man fell on his knees. Jon kicked Mors on his chest and the man fell on his back staring vacantly into the night sky.

Jon slowly turned to see Hother sobbing at the death of his brother but the giant of a man climbed to his single knee staring defiantly at Jon.

“You and your wildlings will die you bastar—” Hother didn’t get to complete his sentence as Jon cut his head off with Longclaw in a single swipe. The headless corpse fell in slow motion and when it fell Last Hearth remained eerily silent except for Ned Umber who was sobbing upon his horse at the fate of his family.

“Well met Lord Umber. I am sure you will find me quite likeable and so will your brother soon enough.” Jon smirked and the Free Folk took the boy down from his horse and bound him in ropes.

“The chained man you spoke of, Jon.” Tormund pushed the old Maester forward and Jon noted that outside of a few scratches on his cheek the maester was unharmed.

“What is your name Maester?” Jon asked as he cleaned the blood on his blades using the cloak of Mors Umber.

“Vormer, my lord. What will you do with Ned? He is just a boy! Please don’t harm him for his brother's mistake. I pleaded with Lord Umber to not break guest rights but he was blinded by his rage and loss.” the old Maester explained as he cast concerned glances at the young Umber lord.

“Ned Umber will be unharmed so long as Rickon Stark remains unharmed. Now, I have some questions for you Maester and I implore you to answer truthfully. Can you do that?” Jon asked and at the reluctant nod of the old Maester, he ploughed on.

“How many Umber men have joined with the Boltons?” Jon asked

“200 men, my lord.”

“There were at least fifty men in the castle. Where they supposed to stay here or were they intending to join the Boltons in Winterfell?” Jon asked and he could see the Maester was reluctant to divulge that piece of information.

“I would like to remind you that your vows are bound to this castle and like it or not this castle has fallen to me. That means I am the acting lord of Last Hearth. Answer me truthfully Maester Vormer.” Jon snapped running low of the little patience he had left.

“The men were supposed to join a host of Karstark men and march on Winterfell to join forces with Lord Bolton.” Maester Vormer said quickly which made Jon a little suspicious.

“Why would Umbers and Karstarks delay their march and do it separately?” Why the delay and why didn’t everyone march to Winterfell right away?” Jon asked curiously

“The bulk of the Karstark and Umber men have already marched out my lord. But weapons and food are needed to be escorted to Winterfell. The storms delayed the caravan and that’s why the delayed march.” Maester Vormer answered truthfully

Jon's eyes lit up in understanding and he silently began to think. He had only come here with thirty men and on hindsight, it was not a good idea. If he had known this information he would have brought more men. They would not have been able to strike as quickly as they did but still to think that he could have dealt with both the Umbers and Karstarks. It was a missed opportunity but he was not that much disappointed.

‘Hmm, if only I had more time. Time!’

“When will the Karstarks be here Maester?” asked Jon hoping that he was blessed with a sudden stroke of luck.

“By next week, my lord. It was hoped that the caravan could reach the Lonely Hills by within two weeks and continue the journey before more snow set in.” Maester Vormer explained and that put Jon at ease because he still had time to call for reinforcements.

“So who would like to ride all the way back to the Gift and lead forty men here before first light?” Jon asked and he was exasperated to note that the men were looking at each other clearly not looking forward to riding all the way to the Gift in this cold night.

“Fine, you have to only travel on the first light.” Jon conceded and he won him a volunteer. Now, all that was left to do was to plan the ambush for the Karstark forces.

For the rest of the night, Jon stayed awake just in case but his vigilance was for nought because the night passed without any incident. When first light shined on Last Hearth he sent a rider to the Gift asking for that reinforcement all the while he prepared the trap for the Karstark men. As a first step, he made all the Free Folk men shed their clothing in favour of some leather and iron armour from the dead Umber guards. All the bronze weapons of the Free Folk were replaced by steel swords, steel-tipped spears/arrows, maces and axes. Then the dead Umber men were replaced by the Free Folk disguised as Umber men. Then they began the long wait. The reinforcements that Jon requested arrived a little early than he predicted as the Free Folk were a hardy bunch and he equipped them as quickly as he could and described his plan in detail.

* * *

Merret had served the Karstarks as long as he could remember. When the children of Lord Rickard were murdered by the Kingslayer he was there demanding justice from the Young Wolf. Fat load of good that did and the Kingslayer was set free by the Stark boy's own mother. As if that was not enough the upstart had the gall to cut off the head of Lord Rickard for killing a few Lannisters. He didn’t understand what the ‘king' was supposedly thinking, after all, the North had assembled to kill the Lannisters in the first place. What does it matter if the Lannisters were killed in captivity or in battle? The Lannisters had no qualms in killing several of good Northmen in captivity. It was by that point that Merret, as well as many Karstark men, saw no reason to stick around under the thumb of the foolish boy. So right after Lord Rickard's execution, he had marched the entire Karstark army back to Karhold. A few weeks later he let out a sigh of relief when he learned about the Red Wedding. On one hand, the Stark boy was dead and that meant the Karstarks will be free from any retribution from the Starks. But the Boltons now controlled the North at least in name and Lord Harald became the Lord of Karhold. Lord Harald has great plans and it involved destroying the Boltons and taking the North from the Flayed Men. The Karstarks are descended from the Starks and in the absence of a male Stark Winterfell should go to Lord Harald. With Roose Bolton dead his lord's ambitions were about to be fulfilled. When the Bolton forces fight with the Starks one will be wiped out while the other will be weakened. That will be the time Lord Harald will deliver the final blow and take the North from the fool of a bastard. In the end, the Karstarks will rule the North.

All of that will come to pass but first, he had to lead the caravan to Winterfell and the Umbers will soon join them on their long march to Winterfell. Merret saw a scout riding hard towards him and realised it was one of his own.

“The gates are open captain. The Umbers are ready.” the scout reported

“Of course they are. To me men! Last Hearth awaits.” Merret ordered and he led his men straight to the ancestral seat of Umbers.

As he rode into the castle he noted that the castle was thick with tension. He could feel it in the air and his instincts were flaring up. Before he could act on it the men that were stationed on the walls of the castle began to rain down arrows at his men spreading chaos and death.

“To me men. To me.” Merret tried to rally the men but his forces became further disorganized when a large group of men attacked from their rear boxing them into the gates trapping his company. He couldn’t call for a retreat which left him the only option to fight out of this trap. He cursed as he saw rushing out of the castle and began cutting down his men. He took the head of a man that dared to charge him and resigned himself to fight to the death. He dismounted from his horse and stabbed a man through his abdomen and was rewarded with a strike to his nose by the dying man. The blow disoriented him and he was about to slash open the back of another soldier but a short blocked his attack. Even with his blurry vision, he could make out the ripple patterns on the sword and the wolf pommel. All around him he could make out his men falling in droves screaming as they died one after the other.

“Jon Snow!” that was his last words as he felt a flash of pain in his neck and he knew no more.

When Merret regained his consciousness he was very much confused. He looked around in wonder as he was once again riding his own horse! Where was the battle? What happened in Last Hearth? Where the hell was he? He was surrounded by men who were holding the banners of the white sun but he knew none of them. Then one of the rode alongside him on a horse and he felt a flash of recognition.

“Glad to see you back among the living. Your name is Merret right? I was planning on slaughtering you all but I have a better idea, my dear friend. You are going to help me take Karhold.” said Jon Snow

“I will die rather than sell out House Karstark you bastard.” Merret snarled and his hand went for his sword but found none at his hip.

“You are loyal to the Karstarks. I respect that but unfortunately for you, I don’t need your permission. I have not tried this yet but if it is painful for you then know that it is completely unintentional.” said Jon Snow with an apologetic tone

“What are you talking about…?” Merret trailed off as he flinched in fear when the dark grey eyes of Jon Snow turn pearl white and once again he knew no more.

But unlike the first time, he was horrified to note that he was not unconscious but rather trapped in his own mind. He was not allowed to move, make a sound or even think! He watched on with growing horror as the guards of Karhold opened the gates and unknowingly let the Stark army in all on his own orders. He was powerless to stop it and watched as the Starks wreaked havoc inside Karhold. The keep had never fallen from outside attacks in thousands of years and yet on his watch, it has fallen. He wanted to cry but he was denied even that by this sorcery of Jon Snow. When all was said and done he watched on helplessly as the ancestral home of Karstarks being overrun by its enemies. He followed Jon Snow into the quarters of young Alys and he prayed to the Old Gods that she had escaped somehow but it was not to be.

“Lady Karstark, it is an honour to meet you in person. I am Jon Snow and we have a lot to talk about regarding your father.”

Merret heard the bastard say and he couldn’t help but wish the smug bastard dead for ruining everything.

* * *

Jon observed the brave face Alys Karstark was projecting and sighed internally. He knew the Karstarks were wronged terribly by Robb and frankly, he doubted that the bad blood Robb started will ever go away. Lord Karstark lost two sons to Jaime Lannister and Robb cut his head off for killing two Lannister boys. While the murder of Lannister boys was wrong Robb could have at least punished the man by sending him over to Karhold instead of taking his head. The Karstarks were kin and when Robb took Lord Karstark's head he became a kinslayer. The Starks have married into this house for many generations and many Karstark woman have married into Winterfell as well. Now, it fell to Jon to clean up the bad blood between the two houses and it was not helped when he had to war with the Karstarks.

“I do apologize for what happened with your grandfather and brothers. Robb should have never done what he did and if I was there I would have stopped him at any cost.” started Jon but he was greeted with an unimpressed stare from Alys Karstark.

“Is that why you are here Jon Snow? You broke your oaths to the Night's Watch and invaded the North with a Wildling army behind your back. You killed so many of my people because we decided to stand against these wildlings. I doubt you are here to apologize if so a raven would have sufficed.” Alys scoffed and stared coldly into his eyes.

“The Maester of Castle Black is dead and that means ravens are hard to come by these days.” Jon joked but he could see that was having no effect on her. She was a Stark alright, he admitted in the confines of his mind.

“I didn’t break the oaths to the Night's Watch and I had a reason to let the Free Folk settle south of the Wall.” said Jon and all he got was a raised eyebrow.

“What do you want me to say? At least have the decency to construct well-formed lies. I am not stupid you know.” Alys sneered

“You won’t believe me unless I show you.” Jon sighed and began to loosen his boiled leather armour and the black tunic underneath. He noted the apprehensive look she was giving him and he realised he should have explained himself first but he ploughed on. With some effort he took off the armour and his upper body was free to the naked eye. He watched curiously as Alys Karstark's eyes widen comically. It was the first reaction he managed to glean from her and he enjoyed it immensely.

“As you can see I was stabbed several times in the heart and yet I am still alive. The truth is I died and a red priestess resurrected me. So technically I died in service of the Night's Watch and my watch ended with my death. The new Lord Commander is Eddison Tollett and he as well as the rest of my former brothers agreed my watch has ended.” Jon could see that his words were having the desired effect as Alys looked on at his scars in wonder and a healthy dose of curiosity.

“I was offered to be legitimized by King Stannis and he offered me Winterfell long before I became Lord Commander of Night's Watch. If I really wanted to abandon my watch then I would have done so and I would be sitting in Winterfell with Roose Bolton and his mad son's head on a spike. As for why I let the Wildlings past the Wall. Let’s just say the Cold Winds are rising and the dead rises with it.” said Jon to the disbelieving looks from Alys

“You are mad. The White Walkers are fairy tales told for scaring children.” Alys scoffed

“Are they my lady? The Long Night is coming and the Others are marching on the Wall. I fought them at Hardhome and if you ask any brother of the Night's Watch all of them will tell you the same. The Others killed thousands of Free Folk at Hardhome and now they match with them to the Wall, a hundred thousand strong perhaps more. The North needs to be united as does all the Seven Kingdoms. Do you think Ramsey Snow can unite the North. He is a fool who enjoys torture and rape as sport. A mad dog that needs to be put down and I will.” Jon took a deep breath as he stood up from his seat and stared out of the window into the night sky. He could see the snow falling and even with his upper torso exposed he was not feeling that much cold. It was strange but he had the feeling that it was because Rhaegal was closing the gap steadily. That was the only reason he could come up with so far.

“He raped my sister and he has my brother. I will attack Winterfell and I will take it by force. Anyone that stand against me I will kill without a shred of mercy. House Umber has already fallen to me and I have put Mors and Hother Umber's heads on spikes. Even if I sympathize with the grievances House Karstark has against House Stark I will kill your brother and wipe his house out if I have to. For what Ramsey did to my sister there will be a reckoning and anyone that stands with him will be wiped out root and stem.” Jon stated coldly startling Alys who was now looking at him with a healthy dose of fear.

“What do you want me to do?” Alts asked as the silence just continued to drag on.

“I want you to write to your brother and ask him to abandon his post in Winterfell. Ask him to march his army back from Winterfell or be prepared to face extermination. He will not have to join me. He can return to his castle and stay there for the duration of this war. When the time comes your House will be compensated in any way your lord brother wishes so long as it is reasonable. Convey this to your brother lady Alys and this will be the only chance that I will extend. I will give him one week to remove his armies from Winterfell but if I see him in the field remind him what happened to houses that rebelled with Boltons in the past. Tell him ‘Winter is Coming'.” said Jon and he took his leave leaving Alys in her room with a quill and a piece of parchment. Just before he closed the door of the room he paused.

“Do find me when you are finished and make sure you are dressed to ward off the cold. We will be travelling to the Wall soon enough.” said Jon and with that parting shot, he closed the door leaving Alys to her thoughts.

It didn’t take long for Alys to come to a decision and she started to pen a letter to her father. As she penned the letter Jon saw to it that the white sun of Karstarks was taken down and replaced them with Direwolf banners that Sansa had hastily sewed for him before he departed. He saved one for Last Hearth as he had forgotten to place one in the previously conquered castle. There was still some work to be done as he will have to transport the caravans to the Wall. The supplies of food, medicine and weapons that the Karstarks and Umbers have graciously provided had to be put to good use. As they say, there is no rest for the wicked and it was a long way back to the Wall.


	4. CH4: The fall of a Mockingbird

Sansa was worried about Jon. It has been more than three weeks since he left for Last Hearth and so far she had no word from Jon. On her instance lady, Brianne had spoken with a few of the Free Folk and the news that they shared was worrisome. According to the Free Folk, Jon had asked for reinforcements from them and since then there has been no contact. She had pleaded with Jon to wait for mustering support from Northern houses. But he had argued that the Northern houses will only follow someone with strength.

'The Stark name has lost that strength when the Northern army was butchered at the Twins. If the Northern houses join us then they will do so only if we have the strength to defeat the Boltons. We don't even have our own family seat. Why would the lords gamble their position for us, Sansa?'

Those were his exact words and thinking back on it she understood what he was saying. House Stark has not even a single soldier to call to its name so why would other lords give up their men to fight for the Starks. Even then she had protested and tried to talk him out of moving against the Umbers. After all, she knew his hidden weapon that could change everything for their family. She still remembered the conversation that she had with Jon.

_"There is something that I have to tell you." said Jon and Sansa could make out his reluctance._

_"You can trust me, Jon." Sansa took his hand and squeezed._

_"I found out about my mother." said Jon and whatever she was expecting, this was not the topic that she was expecting from Jon._

_"Father told you about your mother. I am happy for you Jon. Who is she?" Sansa asked curiously and there were some rumours about Ashara Dayne but father was always right lipped about Jon's mother._

_"Father never told me. He promised he would after he returned from the capital. No, I learned it when I died, Sansa." Said Jon and wasn't that a tale in on itself. She wouldn't have believed Jon's tale about how he died and was consequently resurrected if it wasn't for the scars on his chest._

_"How do you learn something when you die?" Sansa asked genuinely curious and then her eyes lit up eagerly._

_"Did you see father, mother and Robb? Did you?" she asked eagerly and rubbed her eyes as she felt her eyes water._

_"No, Sansa. I never saw anyone but I had visions." said Jon and she gave him a weird look._

_"You had visions?" Sansa asked slowly_

_"Yes, I had visions. That's how I know that I am not Ned Stark's son but his nephew." said Jon and she couldn't believe what she heard._

_"What!" Sansa shouted incredulously_

_"Its true Sansa. I am not your brother but your cousin. My mother is Lyanna Stark, your aunt. My father Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. When Uncle came upon the Tower of Joy he and his friends fought the Kingsguard of the Mad King to get to my mother. Only Howland Reed and uncle survived Ser Arthur Dayne. It was there they found me along with my mother who was bleeding to death. On her death bed, she asked to keep me safe and since that moment uncle declared me as his bastard to protect me from Lannisters and Baratheons."_

_Jon's explanation caught Sansa completely flat-footed and she didn't know what to say. On one hand, she could understand her father better._

_"Father always called you his blood but never once he called you his son. I have never heard him call you his son." She absently said to her newly revealed cousin._

_"Neither have I." said Jon. Sansa was reminded once again of the lesson that she failed to learn from her father._

_"It doesn't matter whether you are my cousin through blood. Father always treated you as his own son and that makes you my brother. That's all I need to know." said Sansa and she could see that her words put Jon at ease._

_"The reason I told you this is that I am in possession of something that will be able to secure the North from the Boltons as well as to pay back the Freys and Lannisters their due." said Jon and that made Sansa intrigued_

_"What is it?"_

_"A dragon dear sister. A dragon that will help us take Winterfell and destroy all of our enemies!"_

While stories of Dragons and White Walkers seem far fetched she would believe it since it was coming from Jon's mouth. If she couldn't trust her own family then there was no one in the world she could put her trust in but she just wished Jon would have listened to her. He could have waited for the dragon to arrive and then the Northern lords would have rallied to their cause. But Jon wouldn't hear her out and instead, he was adamant to attack the Umbers and take Ned Umber hostage. Jon reasoned that with Ned Umber a hostage Smalljon will surrender Rickon. Sansa had argued that Ramsay would never let Rickon out from Winterfell. When she had learned from Jon that he saw Rickon being taken prisoner by Ramsay, she had already resigned herself to Rickon's death. Jon insisted that he will save Rickon but she knew the futility of it. Even with the aid of a dragon, Ramsay would never let Rickon go. She loved Jon and his fierce loyalty to their younger brother but she had long ago learned to let go to ward herself from more pain. It was a lesson that Jon had yet to learn and she hoped he didn't have to but unfortunately it was something she had developed after being subjected to the cruelty of Ramsay. When she was a prisoner in King's Landing she had hoped Robb would rescue her and that hope was dashed when he was murdered by the Freys and Lannisters. She had hoped to escape the capital and live the rest of her life comfortably in Highgarden and to her horror, she was instead married off to Tyrion. Compared to the rest of Lannisters her new husband was a marked improvement but that doesn't mean she was happy being married to a Lannister. From there she ended up being the pawn of Baelish and she had once again stupidly thought that he liked her. It was only later when she was suffering under Ramsay that she realised everyone she had met outside of her family was always using her for their benefit.

Family was all that mattered to her now and she prayed to any gods that would listen that Jon would return safely back.

"My lady, a rider approaches Castle Black." Podrick Payne reported as he barged into her room which was actually Jon's room in truth.

"Is it my brother?" Sansa asked excitedly

"I don't think so, my lady. I could make out the sigil of flayed man on his shield." Podrick reported grimly

"The Boltons! Are there more of them?" Sansa asked her heart sped up in fear.

"No, my lady. Lady Brianne is with the rider and he is just a messenger." said Podrick but that still didn't put her at ease.

"Then I will hear what Ramsay have to say." Sansa stood up and followed Podrick out of the room.

Just as Podrick said Lady Brianne was facing the rider and was trying to glare the Bolton guard into a melted goo. Sansa was amused to note that it was working looking at the squirming messenger. As she took the message from the rider and read through its intents she was not that much surprised. It was some gruesome threats and a confirmation that Rickon was under Ramsey's custody. She was about to give a scathing reply but her attention shifted behind the messenger and a happy smile blossomed on her face. She ran around the messenger and pulled Jon who had dismounted from his horse into a hug. With Jon beside her, she could feel her previously lost confidence return two-fold.

"Who is this Sansa?" Jon asked pointing at the messenger.

"Ramsay's messenger." Sansa answered and gave him the rolled-up parchment.

"I see. Then I have a message for the bastard of Dreadfort and the oathbreaker Umber." said Jon after he read the scroll and returned it to Sansa. He went around his horse to the caravan that followed him. He took out a sack and handed it over to the messenger.

"These are the heads of Mors Umber and Hother Umber. I took the liberty to put other heads on a spike all around Last Hearth. Tell that to the oathbreaker Umber and remind him that Winter is Coming. Tell him that I have his brother in my custody and if he won't hand over Rickon to me I will ride out into Winterfell and crush the Boltons and his traitorous men. When I am done with that piece of shit I will end house Umber for good. Remind him that houses that have risen up in rebellion with House Bolton have never survived to tell the tale. Tell him that war is coming and the North remembers this treachery of House Umber." said Jon and he sent off the shaken messenger on his way.

"You were gone for too long Jon. You could have at least send word that you were safe." Sansa admonished her brother.

"The plan was to take Last Hearth but I had a unique opportunity to cut Ramsay's forces in half and I took it." said Jon and Sansa couldn't help but notice that the Free Folk that followed Jon was unloading a lot of armour, weapons, shields and food from the caravan.

"What did you do?" Sansa asked in wonder and she could see out of the corner of the ye that Lady Brianne and Podrick Payne were also looking on curiously.

"I took Last Hearth and then made a detour for Karhold. Speaking of which let me introduce you to your new lady companion, Alys Karstark." Jon said with a flourish as he pointed at a scowling girl who slid down from her horse albeit reluctantly.

"Welcome to Castle Black, lady Karstark." Sansa greeted the younger girl courteously. There was no need to be rude to the girl even if her family was fighting on the other side. Besides, with Alys as a captive Sansa doubted her brother would be keen to support the Boltons. She wished she could see that vermin's face when Karstarks abandon his side.

* * *

Ramsay Bolton woke up from his bed with a yawn. As he fumbled with his bedcovers and struggled to dress up in his tunic he thought about his wife. He truly missed his wife and the sounds she made as he tortured her every night. He felt truly lonely now that Miranda was also taken from him. Not that it matters in the long run. He was sure he will be shortly reunited with his dear wife and he would enjoy her horrified screams as he would make her watch as he flays her brothers alive. He had enjoyed doing it to the Cerwins and he would surely enjoy doing it to the Starks. In the dungeons of Dreadfort, he had seen the skin of Starks of the old. Even after centuries, his family had kept those skins and every Bolton would be shown those skins to remind them of their duty. That duty being destroying House Stark. When his own father had shown those skins he had dreamed of flaying a Stark. It was really a shame that he wasn't allowed to flay Sansa because of his father's orders. But now that his lord father was no longer among the living, thanks to himself, he will be free to flay his wife. He did have a Stark in his grasp but he was keeping the Stark boy for his bastard brother. Besides he could always flay Rickon Stark after he flay Jon Snow. Then there is also the matter of Reek.

While his father rots on the ground he had to admit that Roose Bolton was right to admonish him. Without Reek, he has lost the ability to keep the Ironborn at bay. If those ravers attack he would have to march out in force to secure his position as Warden of North. That would leave Winterfell open for the taking. He didn't trust any Northern lords especially when he knew most of them would be happy to see his head on a spike. Even Smalljon Umber was a dangerous enemy to host in his home even if the Umber lord had delivered him Rickon Stark. After all, Greatjon Umber died because of his own father's treachery and Ramsey didn't believe for one moment that Smalljon will forget that despite proclaiming otherwise. The Karstarks, on the other hand, is more dependable because Lord Harald Karstark answered House Bolton's call first and was motivated by revenge. Lord Karstark want to to see House Stark dead more than anything else. After all, Lord Harald lost two brothers and his own father because of Robb Stark. There is also the added benefit of no standing enmity between House Karstark and Bolton. That doesn't mean he was blindly trusting them but they were certainly more trustworthy than the Umbers.

As he dressed up and fastened his hunting knives to his hips he decided to break his fast and then deliberate on a strategy to deal with the Starks. Just as he was about to leave his room Maester Wolkan barged in with a note of urgency.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord. The Karstarks have left Winterfell." The old Maester managed to wheeze out in between his haggard breathing.

"What do you mean? How can the Karstarks leave Winterfell without my knowledge?" Ramsey shouted as he hurried out of the room closely followed by the Maester.

"I had posted Merrick on guard duty specifically to watch the Umbers and Karstarks. Where is he?" Ramsey asked as his mind raced with ways to torture Merrick for failing him.

"Merrick is dead, my lord. As are the guards assigned to our granaries, North Gate and the stables." Maester Wolkan reported as the old Maester struggled to keep pace with Ramsey who was by this point beyond incensed.

"They raided our granaries and stables?" Ramsey asked afraid that he would be without food and cavalry in the coming war.

"Yes my lord. They took as much as they needed from the granaries but we lost most of the horses. I did the counting and I could only find fifty." Maester Wolken reported and he blanched as Ramsey turned on him with furious eyes.

"What about Rickon Stark?" Ramsey asked

"Safe in the cells, my lord. Lord Umber had stationed his own men outside the cells along with your own personal guards. The Karstarks may have decided not to go for Rickon in fear of alerting the castle." Maester Wolken explained

"How come none of the guards heard the commotion? Surely they are not deaf enough to miss the fact that an entire army was fleeing at night right through the gates?" Ramsey asked incredulously

"The winds were strong last night, my lord. If the men heard anything at all then they probably dismissed it as the howling winds." Maester Wolken reasoned which only made Ramsey angrier.

"How many men do we have left?" Ramsey asked with gritted teeth.

"4500 soldiers are pledged to fight for House Bolton. Out of those fifty were killed last night. The Umbers have brought two hundred men and that would leave our total strength at 4650." Maester Wolken reported grimly.

"Why would the Karstarks abandon us all of a sudden? They were the first to answer the call but why betray me now?" Ramsey asked more to himself and Maester Wolken remained silent. He had done his part and he was not going to get involved in the thought process of this mad kinslayer, his oaths be damned. Besides, he could already feel the kinslayer's days are numbered.

* * *

Brianne had to admit that Podrick was improving in his sword techniques. While her squire was of a decent sort he was no skilled warrior. That doesn't mean he can't hold on his own but she had the feeling that her squire would be well suited in using some other weapon than a sword. She had said so to his face several times but Pod was quite stubborn to master his sword. If nothing else she appreciated his candour and dedication to his convictions. Training with her squire she had learned that he swung his sword too hard sometimes that he entirely forgot to mind his footwork. It was a dangerous lapse from Podrick's side and she made him aware of it by kicking his knees and consequently, Podrick fell face down on the ground mid-swing.

"How many times have I told you to watch your footwork, Podrick." Brianne admonished her squire and watched on dispassionately as he climbed to his feet on his own with an apologetic face.

"Sorry, my lady." Podrick apologised

"Stop apologizing and concentrate on your footwork." She ordered as she once again positioned her sword and was about to take an experimental jab but paused as a rider rode into her field of vision. The rider took notice of her and pulled the horse into a slow trot towards her position.

Podrick seeing her attention shift also noticed the rider and he readied his sword just in case.

"Are you lady Brianne of Tarth?" the rider asked

"I am." Brianne looked on curiously as the rider took out a sealed parchment and handset it over to her.

"For lady Sansa's eyes only." The rider said and rode off before she could ask more. But seeing the sigil she understood just who was behind this message. While she had her reservations about that man she had a duty to Lady Sansa and she was sure that Sansa would be on guard this time around.

"Littlefinger!" Sansa asked incredulously after Brianne handed over the message to Lady Sansa.

"The sigil gave it away, my lady. Although, I think it may also be the Boltons that are trying to lure you out." Brianne warned and she was not ruling out that possibility.

Brianne saw Sansa nod absently to her suggestion and broke the seal. She saw Sansa quickly read the message and as further she read Sansa's eyes were getting further narrowed.

"What is it, my lady?"

"Littlefinger is in Mole Town. He wants to meet." said Sansa with a thoughtful frown.

"Are you going my lady? He sold you off to the Boltons." Brianne reminded her charge.

"I am going but I will not be alone. You are also coming with me and I have to tell Jon. When Lord Baelish has graciously handed himself over to wolf's lair who am I to discourage him?" Sansa smirked coldly and Brianne also couldn't help but smile. She always wanted to see that snivelling man suffer. She didn't know why but that was the first thought that would cross her mind whenever she would think about Baelish.

After a brief conversation with Jon Snow who was sporting a cruel glint in his grey eyes at the mere mention of Baelish's name she and Lady Sansa rode out into Mole Town. It was a deserted town not far from Castle Black when she and her charge disembarked from the horses they could see that Baelish has travelled light. Only four men had accompanied the little weasel which made what was coming next all the better.

"Lady Sansa, it brings me great joy to see you unharmed and well. The moment that I heard of your escape I…."

"Save your words for someone who cares Lord Baelish. You asked for a meeting and here I am. Say what you will or leave me in peace." Sansa cut-off the weasel lord and Brianne noted with internal satisfaction as Baelish floundered a little. But the slimy snake recovered quickly.

"I know you may have suffered.."

"Do you..?" Sansa once again cut in with a glare that was as cold as the winds from the Lands of always Winter.

"I cannot imagine what horrors you faced but…"

"I agree. You can't imagine the horrors that I faced or perhaps you do. You did know exactly who and what Ramsay Snow was when you sold me off to the Boltons." said Sansa with barely controlled rage. Brianne could see that her charge had tied her hand behind her back and her hands were fisted with such strength the she thought it would be painful.

"If you allow me to explain myself and speak privately…"

"No lord Baelish. The time for dialogue has long since passed. You are the sole reason that my family is in tatters and I was waiting for you to expose yourself to me. Your mistake my lord was believing you could tame a wolf." said Sansa coldly and Brianne's eyes flickered and looked behind Baelish to see Jon Snow walk into the street with a few of his Wildling friends. The one with red hair always gave her the creeps but she had suffered worse so it was not much of a bother. Her hand went to the sword at her hip as Petyr Baelish's guards realised they were in a trap.

"Baelish, I have been looking forward to meeting you. I advice that you take a very good look around the world that you can see and feel because from today onwards your world will only know pain." Jon Snow snarled and charged with his sword.

Brianne also unsheathed her sword but stayed by Sansa's side and let her brother handle the scum. It was a marvel to see Jon Snow fight and she could see why the Night's Watch, as well as the Wildlings, praise the former Lord Commander as a gifted swordsman.

The first guard who was unfortunate to fell had his belly split open by Jon Snow's sword. Brianne could see that Jon Snow had found a small gap in the armour of the guard when said guard had raised his sword to attack. That was all the time Jon Snow needed to kill that guard and that required speed and skill hard earned only by hours of training daily. The second guard who had tried to take advantage of Jon Snow's distraction found himself quite abruptly stopped by Jon Snow. Even Brianne was surprised when Jon Snow used his free left hand to hold the sword hand of the second guard and quite easily stab his sword straight through said guard's neck ending his life. Truly, Sansa's brother was a gifted killer one with speed and ferocity she had rarely seen. He would have made a knight if great renown if the gods were kind, she thought. The other two guards decided to do the sane thing by throwing down their weapons and surrendered peacefully.

"No! Sansa please I beg you. I mean you or your family no harm. I love you. I loved your mother." Peter Baelish was on his knees begging for his life. Brian's was disgusted by this pig. He didn't deserve to be a lord of anything. He was truly a venomous worm.

"Love?" Sansa asked incredulously

"You dare speak of love!" Sansa surprised Brianne by surging forward and kicking Baelish right on his nose. The Vale lord fell on his back with a river of blood flowing out from his nose.

Brian's didn't know whether she should be proud or admonish her charge for recklessly moving close to the enemy. But she didn't have the heart to tell that knowing what Sansa must have suffered because of this scum that was moaning in the ground.

"Take this piece of filth to the Thenns. Tell Sigorn that Jon Snow has delivered a mocking bird and expect them to break this fucker until he sings everything from the moment he crawled out of some whore's womb." Jon snarled as the Wildlings picked up Baelish and moved away quite happy to inflict pain on the squealing lord. Brianne could hear the excited whispers between the Wildlings and by the looks of it, Lord Baelish will be having some hard times ahead of him.

"The Thenns will be extracting every scrap of information that he holds in his black heart. I have already spoken with Sigorn, their leader, and he has agreed to extract the location of where he hides all the stolen gold. That along with some other information will be useful if we are to rebuild the North and the Riverlands. He started the war and we will heal the land using the resources he stole." Jon Snow explained

"Just promise me one thing, Jon. After his usefulness expires promise me that you will kill him." asked Sansa

"I promise sister." Jon nodded

"Also, I want to be there to see it. The last thing he should see is a Stark smiling at him as he bleeds to death." Sansa said coldly which made Brianne a little uncomfortable but Jon Snow merely smiled.

"The wolf is coming out sister." Jon patted Sansa on her shoulder and led her back to Castle Black. Brianne closely followed the two siblings keeping a close eye around the surroundings. She had kept her word to Lady Catelyn by protecting Sansa as best as she could but she could do more and her duty has yet to be completed when she knew that Arya was still out there.

* * *

"You look like shit." said Yara as she handed over a wineskin to Theon but to her surprise, he didn't take it. Instead, her dear brother was avoiding eye contact.

"Look at me Theon." But to her ire, he continued to cower like a whipped dog.

"I said, look at me." She forced his head to turn to her face but his eyes were still skittish.

"How did you come here?" she asked shaking him for good measure when he remained silent.

"I escaped." Then squeaked out

"Really! How can I believe you especially with the timing?" she scowled as her mind raced with possibilities. The Boltons have broken her brother and she had seen it first-hand when she tried to rescue him from Dreadfort.

"Timing?" Theon asked curiously still not looking at her.

"Our father is dead. Euron killed him. Soon we will have a kingsmoot and I intend to put forth my claim. So, I have my suspicions about your presence here brother. Did the Boltons send you?" Yara asked with a hard stare and for once in this entire conversation, Theon looked her in the eye briefly.

"No, I escaped the Boltons!"

"Do you desire the Salt throne brother? Is that why you are here?" Yara asked as she took hold of Theone by his hair and forced him to look straight into her eyes.

"No, I don't want it." Theon shouted but quickly went back to his meek voice. "I don't deserve it. I am not fit to rule anything."

To Yara's horror, Theon started crying and all her doubts about him flew away in an instant. She remembered the scared little boy that he was when he was dragged away from their home after her father's failed rebellion. Even now it was Theon that suffered for their father's mad schemes and that too in a truly horrific way.

"Are you still in there?" Yara shook her brother from the sorry state he was.

"Are you Theon Greyjoy, son of Balon Greyjoy? Or are you that creature I saw in Dreadfort that cost me good and loyal men? Look me in the eye and answer." Yara yelled in frustration

"I am Theon Greyjoy. I am Ironborn and I would name you my queen." said Theon and for once Yara could see a glimpse of her brother inside that shell. She was sure she could bring him out eventually. She had to because she needed every ounce of support to counter Euron and be the Queen of Iron Islands.


End file.
